


Bromantic Poets of the 21st Century

by Illyria_Lives



Series: Those That Can't Do [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illyria_Lives/pseuds/Illyria_Lives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yancy. Mate, wake up, it's almost noon."</p><p>"Exactly," Yancy moaned, fully enjoying being half asleep, and then paused. "You're not Raleigh."</p><p>"Thank God," Chuck replied, leaning as casual as you please in Yancy's bedroom doorway. "But I am the man responsible for getting you to the car wash on time."</p><p>Yancy groaned louder and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. "I thought having you as a roommate would be better than having Raleigh. Or at least, less annoying."</p><p>"Are you waking up or not?"</p><p>"Get bent."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bromantic Poets of the 21st Century

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes hello, from now on extra chapters without any overarching plot for Those That Can't Do will be posted separately in the series.

They weren't entirely sure, in the end, how it started. If they had compared notes, Tendo's name would have popped up a discomfortingly large amount of times, along with a few side-notes about rent, square-footage, and compatibility from Dr. Gottlieb. They were unaware how it started, but the ending was very clear, with Chuck moving out of his apartment in the digs—a rundown old low-price housing unit under constant construction that Chuck fondly called "the shithouse"—and moving, with Max in tow, into the recently vacated half of Yancy's duplex.

It was strange, at first. Yancy had to get used to having someone definitely not Raleigh there, and Chuck had to get used to getting full nights of sleep and not waking up to the smell of chlorine and piss. Slowly, almost not believing how much space he had, he began to spread out over his new home, unpacking small knick-knacks and one day showing up with a secondhand couch in the bed of his truck. It took them an hour of banged elbows and loud cursing to maneuver it into his living room.

It was an uneasy alliance in the beginning, cautious and frosty, since neither party had any real idea of how to act around a roommate that wasn't a family member. Eventually, Yancy, in his special manner, managed to drop-kick any boundaries straight to the moon.

"Hey, Chuck!" Yancy called out from his desk in the nurse's office.

Chuck, who had been conversing discretely with Tendo about the possibility of a restraining order for his after-lunch class, turned around warily, heading over to stand in Yancy's doorway.

"What?" he asked brusquely.

Yancy had his lunch spread out over his desk and motioned towards it. "I screwed up and made two sandwiches. One for Raleigh, but I forgot he was going out with Mako for lunch."

Chuck didn't catch on. "So?"

"So?" Yancy drawled out, "I notice that you never eat lunch. That's a health choice, and I  _am_ a nurse."

"So?" Chuck echoed, edging a bit closer into the office. "I don't follow."

"You." Yancy pointed at him. "Sandwich." He pointed to the spread of food on his desk, a couple of sandwiches and bags of chips and carrots. "Eat." He mimed doing so.

Chuck's ears colored faintly. "I'm fine," he insisted, and then flinched as Yancy picked up his offered sandwich and threw it at him. He floundered and finally caught it. He still seemed unsure, so Yancy drove the point home by gesturing grandly at the chair in front of his desk. Chuck sat down.

"… got anything to drink?" he ventured. Yancy swung his chair around and rummaged through his small fridge, tossing Chuck a soda, which he caught with more ease than he had the sandwich.

They ate in a strange friendly silence with no real need for small talk. When the five minute end of lunch bell rang, Chuck stood up, balling up his sandwich rapper and aiming for the trashcan. It hit the edge and bounced off. Yancy took aim with his own and scored. He punched the air.

"Maybe next time," he told Chuck, who narrowed his eyes at the obvious ploy.

But, he didn't fight it. "Next time," he promised, and headed off to his next class.

* * *

"Yancy. Mate, wake up, it's almost noon."

"Exactly," Yancy moaned, fully enjoying being half asleep, and then paused. "You're not Raleigh."

"Thank God," Chuck replied, leaning as casual as you please in Yancy's bedroom doorway. "But I am the man responsible for getting you to the car wash on time."

Yancy groaned louder and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. "I thought having you as a roommate would be  _better_ than having Raleigh. Or at least, less annoying."

"Are you waking up or not?"

"Get bent."

Chuck sighed and Yancy heard the sound of him walking away in his heavy work boots, too useful for a shop teacher to own, but that was Chuck. For a moment he actually deluded himself that Chuck was a man of the caliber that would give up when confronted with a sleeping man.

"Oi! Max! C'mere boy, hop up!" the skittering of dog paws on the wooden floors made Yancy freeze up in anticipation, and he was about to shout as a big bundle of fur and excitement collided with him, wriggling in an attempt to get beneath the sheets.

"No!" Yancy called out ineffectually, "No! Bad dog!"

"Good boy!" Chuck urged his dog on, "Rescue, rescue!" Max began burrowing down into Yancy's protective bundle of blankets until he found his face, licking it like his life depended on it. Yancy, in order to free himself, sat up and held the bulldog at arm's length. He gave the grinning Chuck his best glare.

"Traitor," he accused. Chuck looked beside himself and he, without invitation, entered Yancy's room and began to rummage through his drawers. "God, and I thought Raleigh was exaggerating how boundary-less you were."

" _He_ was the one who went through my desk without permission. Is this silk?" He began tossing various articles of clothing onto Yancy's bed for Max to inspect before Yancy could swipe them up. "Get dressed."

"I think I might be learning to hate you."

Chuck's smile was wide and annoyingly white. "Join the club; but first, get dressed." Grumbling, Yancy deposited Max on the ground and chose what he would be wearing for the school's annual car wash. God knows they didn't need it, what with the Payload Award in the bag and everything, but it was such school tradition that it couldn't be put off.

"Why am I even  _going_? I'm the  _nurse_!" It was an old argument that Yancy had previously had with Raleigh.

"And you don't even do that," Chuck muttered and Yancy aimed a bundled up shirt at him. Chuck dodged and Max took the shirt in his mouth, scampering off with it. Yancy knew he would never see it again.

When Yancy was dressed in a shirt and shorts, he went out into the hallway where Chuck was waiting, giving him a bit of privacy while playing tug-of-war with Max, with Yancy's shirt as the rope. Yancy cleared his throat and Chuck glanced up. "Carpool?" he offered.

Yancy couldn't say no to that.

Normally he was the one giving rides to people, from years of driving his brother to school, and so even though Chuck's driving had Yancy hanging on for dear life and struggling to remember his prayers, it was nice. Max was in the truck bed, sticking his head into the cab through the open back window, slobbering all over the back of Yancy's head.

They screeched to a stop, and Yancy's legs were like jelly as he climbed down into the faculty parking lot, Chuck leaping down beside him, cursing his truck good-naturedly and kicking at the wheels fondly. Max wiggled his butt and Chuck handed his leash off to Yancy without explanation. Max took off, nearly ripping Yancy's shoulder from the socket.

"Catch up with ya!" Chuck called out as Yancy was dragged in a sprint across campus towards the student parking lot, where the car wash would be located. He aimed his middle finger over his head, and knew Chuck saw it by how his laugh carried.

"Hey, Max!" Mako greeted the bulldog, who immediately stopped to be admired, letting Yancy catch his breath in huge wheezing breaths.

Raleigh approached from where he was filling buckets with soapy water, grinning at his brother, hands braced on his knees.

"Don't. Say. A. Word," Yancy warned between pants.

"I was just going to ask how your new roommate was working out." He grinned and Mako finished her adoration of Max the bulldog, standing up and immediately getting pulled into a kiss by Raleigh. Yancy made a face.

"It's working out much better than a front seat to the Maleigh show," he griped. "No offense, Mako."

"None taken," she returned graciously, "it's nice having Raleigh around."

Yancy made gagging noises as Mako and Raleigh gazed longingly into each other's eyes. Max perked his little folded bulldog ears up and dragged his human weight around eagerly. Chuck was finally arriving, sunglasses in place. Under one arm he carried a metal and canvas contraption and in his other hand he carefully held a six-pack.

"Here's your demon," Yancy announced, handing off Max's leash. Chuck put the six-pack down and took it with a shit-eating grin.

"He just wants to make sure you get your exercise, old man." He kneeled down and nuzzled Max's head. "Isn't that right, boy? Isn't it?" Max looked up with big baby eyes that screamed " _I love you_."

"Too much emotion," Yancy shuddered, and headed off to see what exactly he was supposed to do at the car wash.

"Oi! Yance! Where're you going?" He turned around.

Chuck had set up his beach chair, Max curled up in his lap, and next to him a second chair was set up. Between them the six-pack gleamed cold droplets of condensation. He was looking at Yancy with a confused expression, one arm raised in a shrug.

"I knew you had a heart of gold," Yancy gushed, collapsing into the chair with a sigh of appreciation. He reached for a beer and Chuck blocked him.

"Don't get crazy," he warned, and handed one over. Twist-off caps. They clinked glass bottles together and sat back to watch students and teachers running around in the heat, getting splashed and grimy for five bucks a car.

* * *

"Hey, Raleigh," Tendo remarked, tucking some more cash into his payment box. "Yancy and Chuck seem to be spending a lot of time together since they moved in together…"

"Yeah?" Raleigh asked, eyebrows drawn together.

"Well… I was just wondering…" he looked pointedly towards where Yancy and Chuck were sitting pretty in beach chairs, taking turns tossing a ball for Max to run after.

It took Raleigh a moment. "Whoa! No, man, Yancy doesn't swing that way. Plus Chuck is like ten years younger than him."

Tendo shrugged. "I was just wondering."

"Now that I think about it, though," Raleigh reflected, "Chuck doesn't really seem to swing any way."

"Jealous?"

"What?" Raleigh stumbled. "Jealous of  _what_?"

Tendo smiled baitingly and shrugged. "It just looks like Yancy adopted a new little brother."

"Thank God," Raleigh replied, "he needs something to invest his time in. And Chuck could use a good kick in the ass." Tendo chuckled.

* * *

"Ugh." Chuck groaned and downed the rest of his beer as his father approached. Yancy struggled to do the same.

"Yancy," Herc greeted him. Yancy garbled a mouthful of beer and nodded in greeting. Herc honed in on his son. "Chuck."

"Dad." His tone was icy.

"I'm going to assume that  _you_ brought the open containers of alcohol to a school function."

"Of course you immediately assume it was me."

"But it was you," Yancy pointed out quietly, and was ignored by father and son.

"For once, I'd just like you to treat your job seriously."

Chuck laughed. "Job? Babysitting adults as they wash cars for money we don't need?"

Herc opened his mouth like he was going to argue and cut his eyes towards Yancy. "Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

Chuck held out his arms and stood, Max trailing along after him as he walked off with his father. Yancy, feeling odd, stood up and watched silently at the argument taking place out of earshot, both father and son getting red in the face as they shouted and screamed. Max laid down behind Chuck and covered his face with his paws.

Chuck shoved past Herc, nearly knocking him over, and stormed off towards the faculty parking lot. Max followed him.

"Well," Yancy said bluntly to Tendo, who stood next to him, watching the show, "that sucks."

Tendo eyed him. "Family disputes get to you?"

"Chuck was my ride."

* * *

Yancy was helping Raleigh stack up unused boxes of soap in a storage shed on campus, chatting easily with him, when Herc approached them, looking abashed.

"Hey, Yancy," he pulled him off to one side.

"Yeah, Herc?"

"I don't suppose Chuck… has he called you?"

Yancy checked his phone. "Nope. But he does that. Not call, I mean."

Herc sighed. "Tell me about it. He's probably just blowing off steam. But… if he does call you, can you point him my way?"

Yancy eyed him. He had serious doubts about how well  _that_ interaction would go out, considering Herc and Chuck's track record for getting as close to fistfights as possible without actually laying hands on each other. Raleigh had been a lot like Chuck when he was younger—and unlike Herc, Yancy had been around to witness and deal with it. He knew that Chuck needed someone to let him steam and not force him into a corner he didn't want to be in.

"… sure," he said eventually, "I'll do that."

Herc looked at him for a moment like he wanted to call out Yancy on his false tone but with a visible crack appearing in his resolve, nodded. He then walked off, alone, and Yancy felt a bit sorry for him to be dealing with the constant teenager that was his son.

Yancy wanted to bum a ride home from Tendo, but he ended up being dragged around a mess of errands and was only able to escape by threatening to spoil Game of Thrones for him. It was dark out, and Yancy was surprised to see that Chuck's half of the duplex was unlit.

He was worried for half a minute, letting himself in through the side door, and saw that Chuck's truck was in the garage. Feeling a bit anxious, Yancy forced himself to overlook modern perceptions of personal space, he let himself into Chuck's half of the duplex without knocking.

"Chuck?" he called out awkwardly before walking fully inside, hitting light switches on the walls until he reached his living room.

Chuck was stretched out on one couch in the darkness, head on the armrest and Max passed out on his stomach. Yancy could just make out in the dimness that his face was a mess, bruised and scratched, the remnants of whatever mess he had gotten himself into after his fight with Herc. Yancy sat down on the other couch and waited quietly for Chuck to say something.

"Take a picture," he said in a rough tone. Yancy didn't know what he expected.

"You're really messed up," he observed gently.

Chuck didn't respond beyond shrugging. Yancy looked at him before pushing himself to his feet and disappearing into his side of the duplex. He came back, and fiddled with Chuck's television and DVD player. Then he stretched out on the other couch, giving Chuck privacy as he rubbed at his face and shifted how he was laying, gently nudging Max to adjust where he was sleeping, from curled up on his stomach to nuzzled against him as he lay on his side.

"What are we watching?" he asked as the movie began to play automatically.

Yancy couldn't keep a grin off of his mouth. "Mean Girls."

Chuck snorted. "Figures."

"Well, you can pick the next one."

Yancy liked to imagine that he could hear how Chuck smiled weakly. "Deal."

* * *

The movie ended and Yancy let the credits roll, thinking that Chuck had nodded off. He was wrong.

"So, you gonna call my dad or what?" Chuck sounded abashed and apprehensive.

"Do you want me to call him?"

"… No."

"Then it's your pick, kid."

Chuck grunted and picked Max off of him, setting him gently back down on the couch as he stood up. The bulldog snuffled and kicked his feet. "Don't call me kid," he said, even as he walked into his room and brought out a battered cardboard box.

"You just asked if I was going to call your dad like a kid," Yancy pointed out, stretching comfortably. "Plus you're like, ten years younger than me."

Chuck grunted and held up a few DVD cases that Yancy couldn't read in the darkness. He was about to ask him to pick and Yancy felt it necessary to say "No porn."

"Please," Chuck snorted. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to watch Star Trek: The Original Series or Next Generation."

"I'm not sure if a television series counts as a movie pick," Yancy said in a fake uneasy tone. Chuck glared.

"Original series it is."

Yancy laughed, and as Chuck was putting in the first disc in the DVD player, he sent a quick text to Herc.

_He's going to be fine._

_Thank you._


End file.
